Beneath The Desert Moon
by Animegirl1129
Summary: AU. Nick has a secret life and maybe he's not the only one who knows about it anymore. NickGreg.
1. Chapter 1

**Beneath The Desert Moon**

**_Nick/Greg AU Story. Characters not mine. Dedicated to my best friend for writing the fic that I cannot possibly ever hope to beat and also, accidently spawned this one... Read and review, please!_**

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Chapter 1:

Beautiful citrine colored eyes scanned the length of the crowded street before him. He was in unfamiliar territory, having never experienced the hustle and bustle of Sin City. It was his new home, he'd have to get used to it, he sighed. His body pulsed, strengthening itself as he ducked out of the alley, the lifeless corpse of his victim left behind, the blood of his prey running through his veins.

He truly hated what he'd become. He was a monster, taking the lives of innocent people to feed the beast within him. The cruel irony that he was here to work at the Las Vegas Crime Lab, catching criminals just like him.

* * *

"Grissom, we have anything good tonight?" CSI Level 2 Warrick Brown questioned, stepping into the almost deserted break room. 

The lead criminalist on the night shift sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. Catherine Willows stood beside him, reading the case file over his shoulder. "A young woman was found in an alley off of the Strip." he said, handing the manila folder to the younger man. "But, we have another order of business before we start on that."

Warrick slid into the chair across from Grissom, watching as Greg Sanders the newest lab rat slipped into the room, pouring himself some of the sludge that tried to pass itself off as caffeine. "Hey, Sanders, pull up a chair. Spill it, Gris."

The salt and pepper haired CSI gestured to man hidden in shadows in the corner of the room. "This is Nick Stokes, he transferred in from Dallas PD. He's starting here tonight. Nick, you've met Catherine already. This is Warrick Brown, and our favorite lab tech, Greg Sanders."

The latter shifted on his feet, staring at Grissom as if he'd just grown an extra head. "You flatter me, Gris…" Greg smirked, turning to Nick. "Nice to meet you. Oh, and word of advice: Don't let Grissom get a hold of your blood."

"Noted." Nick replied, his eyes delving into the other's mocha colored ones. He briefly wondered if the younger man, who barely looked to be out of his teens, knew his secret. That thought quickly dismissed when Warrick spoke again.

"Yeah, it's some odd form of CSI hazing. Only Grissom can understand it. Unless you have a taste for chocolate covered grasshoppers, I'd avoid his office." The man smiled, tossing his empty Starbucks cup into the trashcan on the other side of the room.

The older man cleared his throat. "Enough chatter, get out there and catch the bad guy." He shooed them out of the room, sending Greg back to his lab.

* * *

"So, have you met the new CSI yet?" Archie Johnson, the A/V Tech, poked his head into the DNA lab. 

"Stokes? Yeah, seems like a nice guy…" Greg commented, not even glancing up from the samples he was running. "Kinda mysterious, though."

Archie shrugged, "I heard they ran him out of Dallas. They thought he killed someone."

"Yes, I'm sure. Like the LVPD would hire a murder suspect." Greg rolled his eyes at the idiotic rumor floating around, hoping that Nick wouldn't have to hear it. The rumors about himself had finally stopped. They always erupted when new employees started. And they were always ridiculous, Hodges was usually the instigator of those. "Tell David to think his gossip through before spreading it."

"PMS-ing, are we, Greg?" Archie teased before turning away.

Glaring, Greg shook his head. "Hey, Arch!" The younger man looked back in time to see the lab rat flip him off.

"Hilarious."

* * *

"You done this before, man?" Warrick questioned, kneeling beside the body, as close as he could get until the Coroner showed up. 

Nick surveyed the scene, once again thrilled with the irony of having to process his own crime scene. He'd killed that girl… "Yeah, I was a cop in Texas for three years before I tried the forensics angle. Had some issues with my family and needed to get the hell out of there."

The older man nodded. "That's a shame. I'm gonna take a not-so-wild guess and say you're a die hard Cowboys fan?"

"How did you figure that out?" Nick laughed, watching as the Coroner's van pulled up. "I guarantee you they'll wipe the floor with the Ravens this week. They'll get slaughtered."

"I'll take that bet." Warrick nodded. "Twenty?"

The Texan sighed. "Why not?"

"You got yourself a deal."

David Phillips kneeled down next to the body, ending the conversation.

"Who's this?" the assistant coroner asked, eyeing the new face.

Warrick clapped his new betting partner on the back. "This is Nick Stokes, he just transferred in. Nick, this is David. He's cool."

David smiled, before returning his attention to checking the victim's liver temp. "Your TOD was about four hours ago. Rigor's just setting in." He commented, before checking the pockets of the woman's jacket. "No purse, no ID."

Nick nodded, though he already knew that. He'd been doing this long enough to know how to hide his secret and what it required him to do. "Cause of death?"

He titled the woman's head to the side revealing two fang marks on her neck. "I think those are superficial, there's no sign of bruising around the marks, maybe a stray dog or something that came around post mortem. I'll be able to tell you more after the autopsy." David said, covering the victim with a white sheet after the two CSI's were satisfied.

"Thanks, Super-Dave." Warrick sighed, watching him take the body away. "Well, I think we covered everything here, we should head back to the lab now. Dump the vics DNA on Sanders, see if he can make an ID for us."

"Sounds like a plan." Nick agreed.


	2. Chapter 2

**Beneath The Desert Moon**

_**Nick/Greg AU Story. Characters not mine. Dedicated to my best friend for writing the fic that I cannot possibly ever hope to beat and also, accidently spawned this one... Read and review, please!**_

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Chapter 2

"Hey, Stokes!" Greg called, waving to the older man as he walked past the DNA lab a few nights later, having finally gotten results on the girl in alley.

Nick poked his head into the room. "What's up?"

The lab tech was moving around the room in his swivel chair, sending several samples through their respective machines. "I finished processing the samples from your crime scene. The vics DNA was in CODIS. Her names Elizabeth Carson. She was convicted of armed robbery in California seven years ago. There was no viable DNA from the swabs around the bite marks on the neck. That's all I got." He rattled off the information from the paper.

"Thanks, Greggo." Nick smiled. "Do you wanna hang out after shift? Show me the ropes?"

"Sure. Meet me at the bar in the MGM. Five thirty."

Nick nodded, it would still be dark out then. "See ya then."

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Why did that kid have to trust him? Nick found himself wondering as he dove the few miles to the bar. He knew what would happen, it had before. He'd get close, the younger man would figure out his secret, he'd be repulsed, and Nick would have to make sure he stayed quiet. It was one of many reasons why he'd left Dallas. 

He pulled into the parking lot at the MGM hotel. Maybe this time would be different…

"Greggo," Nick smiled, spotting the spiky haired lab tech already seated at a booth toward the back of the bar.

Greg smiled, looking up from his drink. "Sorry about hiding ay back here. I don't like the crowds."

The Texan shrugged, sliding in across from him. "It's fine. I'm not too fond of them either."

"Get yourself a drink, it's on me." He summoned the waiter back over.

Nick nodded, requesting a simple beer. "How long have you been in Vegas? You Don't exactly seem to have seniority at the lab any more than I do." He questioned, sipping the liquid when it was handed to him.

"About a year. Wasn't planning on staying, though. The Crime Lab just kinda happened. What about you?" Greg was bouncing to the beat of the techno music emitted from the speakers closer to the bar.

"Dallas just wasn't where I belonged…" Nick shrugged, taking a log swig of beer.

Greg nodded. "Here's to that. I had to get the hell out of New York."

"Oh?"

"Family issues…" The younger mumbled into his second Pina Colada.

Nick watched the man before him, swearing to himself that the boy must have swallowed the energizer bunny. How anyone could work their hours, get so little sleep, and still be this hyper was beyond him, even with his… condition. "How much sugar have you had today?" He asked, rather amused.

"Mmmm… Not much. Just a candy bar and a soda. It takes nothing to get me bouncing off the ceiling though." That statement brought out several incredibly embarrassing stories, albeit, incredibly amusing ones. Ice Sledding down a steep hill in New York one winter, dressing up from Halloween in a nice family restaurant already covered in Christmas decorations, a rather amusing birthday at a Japanese Grill, and quite a few others as well.

Nick, when not dying of laughter from the other's tall tales, shared a few as well, telling Greg about his childhood adventures in Texas, and his college days as well. The two had talked for hours on end, it was nearly noon now.

"Are you okay?" Greg asked, watching the Texan reach for his sixth beer in as many hours. "I've been meaning to ask you… You're really pale. you're not sick or anything, are you?"

Quite used to that question, Nick shook his head. "No, I'm just fine. My skins been like this for as long as I can remember. It's weird." He sighed, he hated lying.

Greg glanced at his watch. "Wow, we've been here for a long time."

"Twelve thirty?" He gaped. No way they'd been here that long. "I have to go…"

Before Greg could even get a word out, the older man was gone.

"Okay…That didn't go quite as planned."


	3. Chapter 3

**Beneath The Desert Moon**

**_Nick/Greg AU Story. Characters not mine. Dedicated to my best friend for writing the fic that I cannot possibly ever hope to beat and also, accidently spawned this one... Read and review, please!_**

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Chapter 3:

"I told you the Cowboy's would win!" Nick teased, snatching the twenty-dollar bill from his new friends hand upon entering the locker room at the end of shift on Monday morning. He hadn't seen Greg since abandoning him at the bar.

The older man glared, rolling his eyes. "Yeah, yeah, yeah…" He moped. "It's hardly breaking news."

"If that's the case, why did you take his bet?" Catherine questioned, returning her field kit to her locker.

Warrick shrugged. "Because, I bet him before the Raven's star player broke his ankle."

Nick laughed, tugging on his boots. "Be a good sport and bet me for next week's game."

"Who do you want?"

"I'll take the Falcons." Nick replied, making his way out the door en route to the break room to fix himself a cup of coffee. He'd heard the stories about Greg's stash of the good stuff and contemplated using his heightened senses to locate it.

However, that train of thought was quickly abandoned, when he found himself being pulled into Greg's lab. He was facing one very, very, angry lab rat.

"Why'd you bail on me the other night, Stokes?" He snapped.

"Sorry… I forgot… I had a … Doctor's appointment." Nick said, internally cringing at how lame that sounded. For someone as seasoned at this as he'd become in his rather extended lifetime, it shouldn't be this hard to make up a reason for not being able to stick around. He hated lying like this, though it wasn't entirely unrealistic. He had been performing a procedure of some kind on somebody...

Greg's hands gripped his shoulders tightly, the coldness of his skin leeching through his clothes to the younger's hand. "Yeah, right…" He looked everything but convinced by Nick's explanation, but the nicely-timed beeping of one of the machine's drew his attention long enough for a swift escape.

"That was close…" He sighed, deciding to forgo the coffee and high tail it out of there. He hailed a taxi, lacking the energy he needed to catch his prey tonight; he'd just eat at home.

Upon arriving at his half unpacked condo, he went straight to the refrigerator, carefully eyeing it's contents. "I'm almost out of AB…" He made a mental note of that for any future blood-bank raids. He stabbed the top of the packet with a straw and flopped down on the couch.

He found his mind drifting to the young lab tech as he relaxed, something he knew it shouldn't be doing. "I just met him!" He argued aloud with himself. "He's just some kid, why should I even care…"

Tossing the drained blood packet onto the coffee table, he made his way to his bedroom, intent on making some progress with un-packing.

He tugged the black-out curtains closed and set to work, continuing to rationalize his interactions with Greg. "Why did his have to happen to me… My creator must be an evil sadistic being… I finally find someone who I actually like and I can't consider them as anything more than lunch…"

In less than an hour he'd finished with the bedroom and bathroom boxes, wandering back into the kitchen for another snack before he went to sleep for the day.

"Mmm… I think I'll take O negative this time…" He grabbed the packet and started toward his room yet again.

A terrified squeak stopped him dead in his tracks.

Greg was standing in the doorway.


	4. Chapter 4

**Beneath The Desert Moon**

**_Nick/Greg AU Story. Characters not mine. Dedicated to my best friend for writing the fic that I cannot possibly ever hope to beat and also, accidently spawned this one... Read and review, please!_**

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Chapter 4:

The younger man stood frozen in the doorway, the sight of the new C.S.I. inhaling a packet of blood throwing him through a well deserved loop. The half-empty plastic fell to the ground, it's contents spattering across the floor, pooling at Nick's feet. "You…"

He made for the door, with every intention of running far, far away from what he'd just seen. However, in the time it took him to blink, the Texan was blocking the door, standing in front of him.

"Greg…"

"W… what?" The lab tech mumbled, terror making it's way into his mind, causing his voice to waver. He swallowed, "What?"

The cold hands clamped down on his arms, leading him to the couch that sat to one side of the room. "Just… relax. I'm not going to hurt you."

"You're…" Greg tried for a coherent sentence, failing miserably as he allowed himself to be pushed down onto the sofa, Nick sitting calmly beside him, still holding his arm in case he chose to run.

The older man nodded. "I'm a vampire, Greg."

This information seemed to take several moments to process in his mind, the silence quickly becoming uncomfortable. "The case… your first night here. Was that you?"

"Yeah, it was."

"And the bailing on me when we went out for drinks?" He questioned, trying to remain as calm as humanly possible upon finding out someone whom you could easily dub your best friend was a creature of the night – and not in the normal Vegas fashion.

Nick finally released his grip, trusting the other to stay put now. "I had to get food. I didn't want it to be you."

Greg inhaled deeply, rubbing his eyes. "I can deal with this. You don't need to hide from me."

The Texan arched an inquisitive eyebrow. "Oh?"

"I'm… sorry if I freaked out a bit… It just came as a bit of a shock. Not everyday you find a friend casually sipping," He glanced at the pouch Nick had discarded onto the table earlier. "B Positive."

"Why are you so calm? For all you know, I could be setting you up to let my vampire friends eat you. In the time it takes you to turn your head toward be, I could have bitten you." Nick had never quite gotten this reaction to his unique condition before and it confused the hell out of him.

Greg didn't look scared by what had just been said. "I'd like to think I've gotten to know you well enough to know you wouldn't do that to me."

That was definitely not an expected conclusion to the situation. "I'm a monster, Greg. I'm not playing pretend here. I'm a killer, a criminal. Those same people you and I both help put behind bars everyday. I'm one of them. You should be running for the door, threatening to call the CIA or something." He shrugged, his rage boiling to the point where he had to fight down the beast within him trying to break through and simply solve the problem.

The lab rat remained silent, though he appeared rather taken aback. "I don't care, Nicky. You're doing it to survive, not because of some perverse pleasure the killers we deal with seem to have. I wanna be your friend, I want to help you."

"No!" Nick shouted, grabbing Greg by the collar of his shirt and slamming him into the nearest wall. "I'm not a good person. I'm evil, don't you get it?"

"I don't believe that." Greg did all he could to keep the fear from his eyes, not daring to change his point of view. The older man's body was pressed firmly to his, and he could think of nothing else to do. "I'll prove it to you…" He whispered. He searched the vampire's translucent citrine eyes, looking for some clue. Finding none, he leaned in, pressing his lips to this creature's.


	5. Chapter 5

Beneath The Desert Moon

**_Nick/Greg AU Story. Characters not mine. Dedicated to my best friend for writing the fic that I cannot possibly ever hope to beat and also, accidentally spawned this one... Read and review, please!_**

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Chapter 5: 

"So…" The figure cast in shadow, lurking across the street from the condo that his subject lived in, spoke quietly to himself. He watched as a stranger entered the building, the only possibly snag in his plan. "You are here, after all, I see."

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""Nicky!" Greg called, using the key the Texan had offered him a few weeks prior, not long after he'd discovered his new friends secret life. "I brought food!" 

"I hope you mean -your- food." The voice from Nick's bedroom laughed, the other man appearing in the hallway, tugging a t-shirt over his head. "Thanks, G." He headed to the kitchen and grabbed a few beers and plates before flopping down on the couch, flipping on the game he'd Tivo'ed.

Greg smirked, already seated and digging the containers of Chinese food from the bag. "Have you, you know, 'eaten' already?"

The elder nodded, helping his friend divide the food. "Yeah, but, even if I hadn't, I wouldn't hurt you." He assured Greg, clinking their beers together.

"I know." Greg grinned. "Can I ask you some more questions now?" Nick had allowed Greg to ask him five questions related to his vampirism a week, Thursdays, when the younger came over and stayed through the day.

"Go ahead." Nick laughed, slumping further back into the sofa.

He shifted, turning to face the other. "Okay. Last week I asked about all the light and fangs and stuff, which only made me feel like an idiot for all the annoying vampire stereotypes." Greg flipped Nick off when he laughed at that. "So, I though up better questions."

"Good to hear. I was afraid you were gonna ask about garlic or something."

"Jackass." The younger glared. " How long have you been like this?"

The Texan shrugged. "Almost two years. I thought you said these were better questions?"

He playfully smacked the others chest. "If you want I'll go back to the Dracula questions." Nick shook his head, opposed to that idea. "Well, then. Umm… Is this why you left Dallas?"

"Yeah. Some of the guys I worked with were starting to think I was crazy. None of them knew, and I've always been able to cover up what I do, but I didn't want to risk it. So, yeah, I bailed. I'm surprised there weren't rumors here."

"There were. They came from Hodges though, so no one believed them." Greg explained, absorbing the information. "Is there some handbook you get when you get turned so you can answer idiotic questions from curious lovers?"

Nick choked on his beer. "That would be a 'no'."

"Can you tell I'm running out of well-thought out questions?"

"Yes. Beginning to notice."

Greg resumed sipping his own drink. "Umm…" He strained his brain for anything resembling a sane question. "Ugh, how did you get turned?"

The Texan exhaled deeply, before downing the rest of his beer. "I honestly have no idea."

"What?"

"You heard me. I don't know what, or who made me this way."

The younger pulled Nick's now empty bottle from his hand, setting his own down on the coffee table as well before moving to straddle the Texan's lap. "I'm out of questions."

The two of them had yet to actually have sex, they'd done pretty much everything but, in fact, but not that, not yet. And as fate must have decided, not tonight either, as Greg's beeper went off.

"What is it?" Nick questioned, hands on his lover's hips to keep him upright as the other reached for the device sitting on the table with the forgotten food.

The younger growled, hanging his head. "Grissom wants me at the lab to process stuff from is triple homicide. I'm sorry, Nicky."

"Not your fault."

Greg was gone a few moments later, resisting Nick's efforts to distract him with kisses to that spot just under his ear that drove the younger crazy. He left with a final goodbye kiss and a quick 'See ya later' and was out the door.

A sulking Texan was left behind, flopped out across the length of the sofa again. "This sucks."

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"Excellent." The man clad all in black nodded to himself as the Texans blonde haired colleague left the building, satisfied that his distraction had worked and started forward, advancing on his newest targets home.

* * *

Nick had retreated back to his bedroom, stripping off his shirt and falling into bed. Of course, Grissom would chose tonight, the one night a week he had Greg all to himself, to call the young lab rat in. The Texan growled and rolled onto his stomach. Another few minutes and Greg would have been lying under him… But ,no, Grissom had screwed that up, too. 

He was half tempted to go out and work off some of his energy. But it was too big of a risk at the current hour and the last thing he wanted to do was have to run away again. Especially now that he had Greg to lose if he did.

His thoughts were interrupted when he heard the door to his condo open and close. "Greggo?" He called, hoping against all hope that Grissom had called the younger man and told him it was a false alarm. The figure that entered his bedroom was definitely not Greg, though.

"You're mine now, you murderer."


End file.
